At the beginning of Tom and I's National League preview, I mentioned my regret in having not written a planned article about why Duke basketball totally blows, concluding that I'd only get another chance if BC and Duke were to meet in the ACC Tournament. As it turns out, with their first round win over UVA, BC plays Duke again tonight at 9:30. Good news for college basketball fans and Shatterfaced readers alike.

           Most people are aware of the on-the-surface reasons why Duke basketball totally blows: its gratuitous self-congratulatory attitude following the slightest positive play from any of its players, its insistence in maintaining the tradition of Adolph Rupp's Kentucky Wildcat teams from the 60s in its refusal to allow more than two black players on any of its teams, and its long run of smug, loatheable, extremely white, poetry writing guards. (Please, please click on that link.)

          Those are three good reasons. Here are four more:

1) Kyle Singler is the Ugliest Person in the Universe

          This is a little unfair, because it's nothing he can control, but he DOES seem unaware of his unfortunate condition, considering that this is the face he makes when he is inordinately excited - meaning, when one of his douche bag teammates takes a wrongly-called charge:



              To me, this makes him look like the love child of Sigourney Weaver and the alien she spent four big-budgeted movies trying to murder. It was as if Ms. Weaver said something like "Hey, before you indiscriminately mutilate all of my friends, and I decapitate you and everything gets all bloody and shit...you wanna fornicate and create a Duke basketball player?" And the alien threw up his tentacles and said "Sure. Why not?"

Seriously, look at the picture of Singler again, and then look at these two:



Probably not fair to Ms. Weaver, but what if she was drunk?

2) Jon Scheyer's mom is a smokeshow.

            Google image has obviously served me well on this site, and up until this point in the article. But AMAZINGLY - and I stress this, AMAZINGLY - there are no pictures of Duke G Jon Scheyer's mother anywhere on the internet. Considering the absolutely filthy, disgusting, Bill O'Reilly-rant-inducing-except-if-it-has-anything-to-do-with-loofahs-up-asses stuff that's on the internet now, it is absolutely absurd that there isn't one photo of Mrs. Scheyer.

            And that's a damn shame, because I think she gave birth to Jon when she was 12. She is ALWAYS featured on every Duke telecast, and (of course) ALWAYS harrassed on the road by opposing fans, which makes the fact that I can't find her on the internet doubly unbelievable. Here is a short list of what I google image searched:

Jon Scheyer's mom
Scheyer's mom
Duke player's mom
Duke players' moms
Jon Scheyer's mother
Housewife porn (because who knows?)
Scheyer's mother
Duke basketball mothers

              No luck, but put it this way: from 7th grade on, Jon's friends would insist on the sleepovers being at his house.

(UPDATE 3/25: Recently getting hits to the site from people searching for Jon Scheyer's mother. See? I'm telling you.)

3) Greg Paulus has gotten worse at basketball since he was a freshman.

            If you'll allow me to briefly switch to basketball for a second, there's no more purely hateable person on the Duke Blue Devils than Greg Paulus. To me, he is the most hateable of all time, narrowly edging Trajan Langdon, Steve Wojciechowski, and the aforementioned J.J. Shakespeare. Ever since he tried to fight the beloved Louis Hinnant in the ACC Championship game three years ago, I've wanted him dead.

           This season, I pretty much just pity him, however, because he kind of just sucks at basketball now. He used to be a serviceable point guard that could give you 10 a game, with 4 or 5 assists and limited turnovers. Now, he rides the bench, picks up fifteen minutes, four fouls, 5 points, and three turnovers. In this sense, it's almost like I REGRET getting his phone number from a Duke girl's phone two summers ago and routinely sending him shit-talking text messages.

           Jussssssst kidding. Nothing like getting a good "Fuck you." from Mr. Paulus after blowing a game against Clemson last year, when I sent him "I don't think a whole box of nyquil's getting you to sleep tonight, pal."

           Want in on the fun? I have heard from others that it's since been changed (and I like to credit myself with that), but...
 
           EDITOR'S NOTE: Phone number removed on advice from people not quite as dumb as I am.

4) Coach Mike Krzyzewski is a total, total douche bag

           No subtlety here. The man is the manifestation of all that has been written before this section. If sanctimony met smugness at a bar, they both took a couple tequila shots without lime or salt, went back to sanctimony's apartment, exchanged email addresses in the morning, and waited nine months, the result would be Coach K, the infallible media darling. Everybody hates Duke, because everybody hates Coach K. And deservedly so.

           Three or four years ago, American Express debuted an advertising campaign featuring a different celebrity's life in one minute, and because of the hecticness of said celebrity's life, their card is American Express. The first commercial featured an incredibly badass Robert De Niro.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrzeP4TvzXc

           With that impressive introduction, who did American Express turn to for its second-ever ad, to keep with the lofty standard that De Niro set in the first ad? Duke Coach Mike Krzyzewski, talking about how he wanted to mold his athletes into better people and students before better basketball players. Awwwww. Character first, says Coach K!

           (Well, whiteness first, and THEN character. Well, whiteness, and clapping ability, and THEN character. Well, whiteness, and clapping ability, and frequency with which you awkwardly chest-bump other white people, and THEN character. Yeah. And THEN basketball ability.)
          

Mainly, I'm just excited that I get to watch Paulus try haplessly to cover Tyrese Rice one. more. time.
          
God, I hate Duke.